The Invisible Boys
by Lauraesque
Summary: Marco Bodt was nobody. And in a way, Jean Kirchstein was nobody either. They've both spent their entire lives living in the shadows and feeling invisible, but when they're together – the feelings of loneliness seem to ebb away. A JeanMarco highschool AU of the hurt/comfort genre with a sprinkling of fluff. Rated 15 for moderately graphic violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Marco

I've never really been all that special. For as long as I can remember, I've been the quiet kid at the back of the class: keeping his head down and spending every spare moment daydreaming. At lunchtimes I just wandered the hallways, maybe paying the library a visit or, less than often, the gym. Back in middleschool I had a couple of friends, but my recollection of their faces is vague at best. Now, I'm not the most unfriendly guy or anything, but my mom and I moved to a new town as soon as middleschool ended. When I got to highschool, everybody else just sort of knew each other so nobody talked to me. No one really noticed me at all. And I didn't try to initiate conversation with anyone, which is probably why I was crouched in the darkest corner of the library eating a sandwich by myself. The librarians never seemed to mind me eating there, despite the 'no food' sign which was plastered on the door. I guess they worked out that I had that whole 'loner' thing going on.

I nibbled on my extremely dull meal and downed a cup of water, fresh from the school's water fountains, before the bell rattled weakly. Ah, my salvation came with the pathetic noise of a clump of metal being repeatedly beaten with another, smaller clump of metal. I stood up, glad that I wouldn't have to spend any longer squashed out of sight in the library, and brushed the crumbs from my jeans. That earned me a scowl from the assistant librarian, Miss Scott. But she smiled at me on my way out, just the same. Her bright blue eyes crinkled at the corners and I pondered whether she was just being friendly or was she glad that the last student had left so she could resume her gossip with the others about various members of staff? I spared her a short wave and pushed past the library doors into another bleak corridor.

My English lit folder clutched tightly to my chest, I hurried up the stairs. I had to wade through an ocean of Freshmen, but I made it to class before the bell could let out another feeble cry. There was a real surplus of kids this year, due to our ever-resourceful school taking on more student, because more students = more money from the government! Not one person noticed me slip into the classroom and take my usual seat, two desks from the back and three from the window.

I'm wondering if you think my life sounds like it was a little lonely. Well… Yeah. But I had my mom and my cat, Beezlebub, to keep me company. That was all I needed back then. School had me well habituated to loneliness by then anyway.

The school week went by very similarly. I did pop into the gym on Thursday though – mostly because I never did any exercise and I was counting on living past thirty years old. I'd tell you that I received a few funny looks from the jocks, but I didn't. I was boy invisible, nobody really cared what I did.

On Saturday, at around 7pm, I pressed a sloppy kiss to my mother's freckled cheek and stepped outside, shuddering as the cold air of my home shifted to the colder air of the outdoors. It's sad, I know, but this part of my week was always the highlight for me. I went to the local Library on Saturdays (rather than the shitty school one, this one actually had decent books) and picked out a book to last me the following week. I absolutely adored fiction, I still do. Opening a book and slipping into another realm was the only escape from the dire reality of my life and the only change in my dull routine. With a book, I could travel to new lands, experience adventures and discover what life was like all from the comfort of my IKEA-bought armchair. I didn't have to look up to know I was en route to the Library; the familiar scent of garbage strewn around the alleyway I used as a short-cut informed me that I was going in the right direction.

I hummed softly to myself as I trotted down the murky alley, but my pleasant murmurs halted to an abrupt stop when my eyes landed on what awaited me about halfway down.  
"Stop making things harder for yourself!" came the gritty slur of a stocky man. Quivering at the scent of his breath, was a young girl who must've been about my age. She was backed against the wall and I could practically hear the thumping of her heart against her ribcage. I didn't like this one bit. My breath caught in my throat, and I thought I might throw up. Trying to steady my heart rate, I pressed myself against the bricked wall and watched in horror as I desperately contemplated my options.  
I could call for help? I thought but how far would things go before help arrived?  
There were three men crowding the girl. That was three times the amount of people I had with me. I would surely be beaten to a pulp.  
My train of thought was interrupted by another man.  
"Look, if you don't give us your money we'll have to settle for some other type of payment."  
I made up my mind when the girl squealed at the tug on the waistband of her black skinny jeans. Oh hell no.

And so I charged in there, fist drawn back and screaming 'let her go!' at top volume. I socked the offender square in the chin.  
"Ow, you little shit!" he hissed and clasped his grubby mitts to his busted jaw before growling, "Well, get him!" to one of the bozos who was watching with his mouth agape. He took a couple of seconds to react, but soon he was on me and cracking his knuckles gleefully as he approached. Struggling hopelessly to escape, the girl yelled something along the lines of 'Leave him alone!' which I appreciated – but her arms were pinned behind her back and really, she was the only reason I was even in this mess. It took the burly bloke about 0.5 seconds to floor me; the simple knock of his fist against my temple had me seeing stars.

Yeah, okay. I passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Jean_**

I adjusted my blue and black tie with my left hand, the other reaching for my hair to muss it a little. These damn private school uniforms. I shouldn't have been complaining though, not when I was all but guaranteed a spot at the prestigious King's University. The aroma of blueberry pancakes wafted into my room and assaulted my nostrils. A pang of hunger erupted in my stomach. Licking my thin lips, I made for the stairs and raced into the kitchen – almost smashing into my sister who was slaving over the stove in my haste.  
"Hey!" She cried angrily and her lips made a puckering noise as she sucked the sugar off her thumb.  
"Watcha making, kiddo?" I draped my arm over her shoulder and she immediately shrugged it off, her brow still furrowed into an antagonized 'V' shape.  
"Stop calling me that, Jean. You're ten minutes older than me at most." She wriggled the pan in her hand, her wrist flicking up to toss the pancake into the air. I was rather impressed when it landed neatly in the pan. "And, it's a blueberry pancake. Pretend you don't know." My twin crouched slightly to open one of our kitchen's sliding cupboards. She produced a china plate before shutting the cupboard with her foot. "Notice how I said 'pancake'" she smiled and turned to grab the butter from the fridge – A risky move seeing as she had left me unattended and drooling over her pancake. "Pancake as in singular. Meaning there is only one. Meaning I'm going to eat it and you're not having any."  
 _Of course._  
I huffed and gave her a pouty scowl, to which she politely responded with the extension of her middle finger. Nice, sisterly love right there everyone.

I sighed and turned my attention to the kettle to make my morning coffee. After I was finished stirring the milky brown liquid, fascinated by the small vortex that formed from my quick blending, I took my usual seat across the table from my sister. She was looking at me suspiciously so I waggled my eyebrows at her.  
"Are you not having breakfast?" she asked and cocked her head inquisitively. I shook my head. If I couldn't have blueberry pancakes than I didn't want anything.  
"Honestly, the smell of your food has really put me off." I sighed dramatically "you really are a terrible cook."  
She scoffed at that, plump lips parting to reveal perfectly formed teeth.

Just as I was finishing my coffee, the noise of the kitchen door slamming shut alerted me to my mother's arrival.  
"Good morning, mom." I smiled widely. She responded by placing a soft kiss to my cheek before continuing to the kettle to make her own cup of coffee. Call me a momma's boy, I don't care. My mom is awesome.  
My twin sister coughed and stood up from her seat, stretching her arms to the air and yawning as if she had only just awoken. My mother tucked her greying hair behind her ears and gripped a coffee mug tightly with her little hands. She waved at us from the window when we passed on the way to the bus stop and my twin beamed back at her while I wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck. Winter was approaching and I could definitely feel it in the air. We chatted idly as we waited for our private school bus to trundle up the hill and offer refuge from the miserable cold. My sister was the first to step into the bus's cosy interior, flashing the bus driver her pass along with a shit-eating grin. We took our usual seats, one in front of the other to save a spot for our friends. Letting my eyelids flutter shut, I leaned against the steamy window.

I found myself drifting in and out of sleep, for each time I dragged my sleepy gaze to the window, we seemed to have teleported a good way closer to the school.  
"Hey, sleepyhead!" I was awoken with a noogie, ruffling my already-messy hair. Connie laughed; amused by my perplexed expression. I growled in displeasure (after gathering my bearings) and smoothed down my hair where he had mussed it. He began excitedly telling me about the date he had with Sasha last weekend. Yeah, Like I cared. I definitely was _not_ one for romance. The last time I had dated, it ended with a broken saucepan and a hole in the wall. No, I don't care to elaborate. I didn't exactly have girls throwing themselves at me left, right and centre anyway. There had been a couple of chicks to ask me out over the past year or so, but after my rejection of them I think the others were deterred or something. I'm sure they still fawned over me at sleepovers though. I mean, come on. I'm pretty hot.

We arrived at Trost Private relatively early, and kids filed out of the bus while they jabbered noisily. I heard Christa give an adorable giggle when my sister made some dumb joke about my coffee obsession. Rude. I rolled my eyes at the display Reiner and Bert were making outside the school gates. They had better hurry up or one of the school's, slightly more homophobic, members of staff would come and give them an afterschool. I doubt that would have bothered them though, their makeout sesh would probably have just continued there. It might sound like I hated them or something, but I've actually always thought Reiner and Bert are pretty cool. Bert's always been pretty nice to me, and Reiner is a total badass.

I weaved through the corridors until I found my homeroom and plonked into my seat. At least it was a little quieter in there. I watched as Ymir and Christa talked/flirted with one another, causing Christa to blush on multiple occasions, and gritted my teeth. Nothing pissed me off quite like skinny love. I dared to look back at my sister and was not at all surprised by what I saw. Like always, there were about five doting boys surrounding her and grinning like fools whenever she thought to grace them with a smile. What idiots. The bell rang and she slipped off the edge of her desk and into her chair.  
My sister was something of a highschool princess, though she may have been too sweet and modest to admit it. People of every gender and social status kissed her ass as if it could grant them immortality. But her real friends have been there all along – way back before puberty hit her like a fucking aeroplane and she was still a gawky preteen with a mouth full of metal and a too-wide smile. I plucked a straggling thread from the emblem on my blazer. It depicted two swords crossing over a shield – lord knows why. Our depressive prefect Levi was the last to shuffle into the classroom and I briefly wondered if he looked that begrudging while sucking the face off our Head Girl, Petra, in the supply closet. Ha.  
Our poor tutor had to deal with the usual shit that occurred during registration:  
'Miss Kirchstein, that desk is not your notebook!'  
'Nor is it a footrest Mr Springer.'  
'Jean, what is there outside that is _so_ interesting that you can't pay attention to me!'  
(I was also guilty of giving our tutor grief once in a while.)  
'SASHA WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU EATING!'  
At lunch, I sat with my sister and our friends. Ymir freaked the hell out when I offered a Christa my apple because I wasn't really feeling it and she didn't seem to have much to eat that day. She needn't have worried though, because Sasha swooped in and ate that apple faster than I could say: 'God, I was just trying to be nice!'

The week was very much of the same, too. But Saturday? It didn't go so smoothly. My sister told me at around 7pm that she was going out to pick up some textbooks from the library, and at the time I didn't think much of it. I told her to text me when she safely arrived though. I'm still angry at myself for not being more careful that day – I knew for well that she would be taking the shortcut through the alleys. I should have been with her.

It was approaching 8pm and my sister had not yet texted me to let me know she was safe and sound at the library. I pulled my iPhone from my back pocket and tapped out a message to her:

 **To: The Twinster  
Hey, u there yet?**

5 Minutes passed. No reply.

 **To: The Twinster  
Sis?**

Still, nothing.

 **To: The Twinster  
omw**

Pulling on an oversized parka, I yanked open the front door and charged into the frozen night. The sudden drop in temperature caused me to shiver. At first, I walked at a normal pace, but with each passing minute that my phone didn't buzz against my ass, I grew more and more concerned for the safety of my sister. Soon, I was running. My lungs, screaming for air, seemed as if they might burst inside my ribcage and I wasn't sure if it was from the tunning or the worrying over my twin.

I skidded to a halt at the beginning of the alley, my throat dry and my knuckles white. I don't think anything could have prepared me for the image that was burned into my retinas that day. Pressed against the wall, screaming and kicking, was my sister. On the floor was a crumpled heap of what appeared to be a human form. Two men were repeatedly hammering into the body with their feet, and with each kick, it's spluttering got quieter and the wheezing breaths became weaker. I blinked, shell-shocked by the absolute horror unfolding before me. But it took just a second for my senses to adjust, and then I was screaming my sister's name and charging with my fist pulled back, ready to swing.  
"SOPHIA!"


End file.
